


taking shots that'll keep you guessing

by gignikinszz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mistaken Identity, and they were ROOMMATES, but no one there is underage, featuring a party and some alcohol, fuck yeah another halloween fic, oh my god they were roommates, the author loves halloween ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gignikinszz/pseuds/gignikinszz
Summary: A frat party? Not really Obi-Wan’s idea of a good time, especially on Halloween. But hey, his roommate and best friend he’d been crushing on for, like, 2 years was going to be there, so it couldn’t be all bad. Plus, costumes.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 103





	taking shots that'll keep you guessing

**Author's Note:**

> the existence of this fic is all @[monamoure's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monamoure/pseuds/monamoure) fault god i love them
> 
> title is from "van horn" by saint motel. no beta as usual, enjoy!!

Going to a frat party with his roommate and being forced by the rest of his friends to wear a way-too-involved costume wasn’t really Obi-Wan’s idea of a great Halloween, but as he put the finishing touches on his vampire makeup, he had to admit he was minding the costume bit less and less.

He didn’t look like him at all, but he seemed… way cooler. His skin was painted white, his eyes darkened with some eyeliner he never would’ve picked for himself but Padme was _absolutely_ right about, and his lips and chin were stained red with something that _looked_ like blood but wasn’t quite. It was kind of thrilling, if he was being honest. Sure, he wasn’t too keen on the weird cape he had to wear as part of the getup, but the rest of it? Fucking awesome.

And, he supposed, Anakin _was_ going to be there.

They’d known each other since freshman year, when they’d had an intro-level Chemistry class together that Anakin had _excelled_ at, courtesy of taking it in high school but having to retake it in college for some degree requirement. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had needed more than a bit of help, which led to study sessions, which led to midnight McDonald’s runs, and one thing led to another and now they were best friends, who decided to be roommates for absolutely platonic reasons on both ends.

Meaning Obi-Wan had a big gay crush. An unrequited big gay crush, one that didn’t look like it was leaving anytime soon.

And yeah, it wasn’t like it was going to go anywhere, but at least Anakin was nice to look at, and talk to, and be around in general. And at least he’d be at that stupid frat party in some costume that, knowing him, was going to be way sluttier than it needed to be.

There were worse ways to spend a night, he supposed, than getting wasted and trying to not stare at your friend’s ass.

Obi-Wan ended up walking over alone, planning to meet with Cody at the entrance and the others inside. Ignoring the fact that it was only eleven and there were already empty beer cans out on the lawn, he saw Cody quickly, processed the weird Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle outfit, and joined with him to get inside.

“I heard Anakin was already inside,” Cody said, unprompted, over the music, steering Obi-Wan over to a cooler full of White Claws.

“Oh, is he?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling his face flush but trying in vain to keep it cool. “I didn’t ask.”

Yeah, sure, it was rude, but they both knew it was just overcompensating.

“Didn’t need to!” Cody replied, before bumping Obi-Wan’s arm with his own, then promptly disappeared. Fucker.

Trying to avoid the worst of the dancing—which appeared to be less like dancing and more like a bunch of hookups waiting to happen—Obi-Wan skirted around the edges of every room he could get in, searching for Anakin. _What did he say he was going as, again_?

He picked up another alcoholic beverage of some variety on his second pass. Then another on his third. And another on his fifth. Fourth? It could’ve been the sixth, he wasn’t quite sure.

All he knew was that one minute, he was walking around, looking not at what was in front of him in hopes of finding Anakin, and the next, he was bumping into something _very_ sturdy that seemed to reflexively grab his elbows with its gloved hands, steadying them both and bringing their heads so close, Obi-Wan could smell its breath when he turned to face it.

“It” turned out to be a guy wearing some sort of weird bunny-eared mask, fake eyelashes, an odd chain around his neck, and… a mini-dress? Honestly, Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure they were a guy until they opened their pretty, somewhat familiar-looking mouth and spoke.

“Sorry, sorry.” The voice sounded familiar, but honestly, Obi-Wan was, like, 4 and a half drinks in and he had no clue who the fuck it could be. “Didn’t mean to run into you there. Don’t, uh, suck my blood or anything, yeah?”

“What are you dressed as?” Obi-Wan had meant to respond to… whatever the man said, he couldn’t really remember. He had. But he had to know what the _fuck_ that costume was supposed to be.

The other man scoffed. “Ariana Grande in her _Dangerous Woman_ era, of course. Don’t be rude just because you have no grasp on pop culture. God, you’re just like this friend of mine. Well, actually…”

“Ariana’s” voice trailed off as Obi-Wan processed what had just been said. He didn’t know he’d said the what the fuck part out loud.

“Yeah, you did.” The other man said. “It’s kinda rude to interrupt, too.”

“Sorry about that,” Obi-Wan said, realizing then that his hands were on the man’s biceps. They felt nice. “I was just looking for my friend, except he never told me his costume, and now you’re really hot, you know?”

From what Obi-Wan could see of the man’s face, he just looked confused.

“Okay, uh, you’re not making any sense, but, uh thanks.” It was silent for a moment, them both holding onto each other, when Obi-Wan came to a realization.

“Oh, fuck damnit, I dropped my drink.”

And it must have been funny, because as soon as he said it, the man he was holding onto looked him in the eyes and started to laugh. It made Obi-Wan laugh, too, and they were laughing together, then, before he knew what was happening, they were kissing, messily, and Obi-Wan’s hands were in curly hair and there was a tongue in his mouth and hands on his waist and his makeup was probably smearing and god, “Ariana” seemed so _familiar_ but he couldn’t place it, but he didn’t want to stop kissing for long enough to find out, not when it felt so _good_ and there were those _sounds_ and there was probably something else he had been doing but he couldn’t for the life of him remember.

And it was over far too soon, leaving him dizzy.

Cody found him, soon after that, dubbed him wasted, and made him go home. And Obi-Wan couldn’t stop thinking about the weird familiarity of the stranger, nor their half-hour makeout session.

When he finally got himself into bed, he touched his face, where the other man’s mask had dug into it, thought something vague about makeup, and promptly crashed.

Waking up, however, wasn’t half as easy as sleeping was.

For starters, he was madly hungover. There were drums banging around in his head, his limbs felt like stone, and, worst of all, his lips were dry and chapped. Annoying. There was also the matter of his makeup, which he’d apparently forgotten to take off the night before, and was now caked on uncomfortably.

Then there was the memory of the Ariana Grande impersonator he’d made out with, making him want to both duck back under his covers in shame and go out to find the man. Maybe developing a requited big gay crush on someone would help him get over Anakin? He put that on his mental list of things to do when he wasn’t hungover as fuck.

Getting the makeup off with the wipes Padme had given him wasn’t too difficult, but it left him wondering just how much he was going to break out as a result of it all. Brushing his teeth? Annoying, but he did it several times to dispel the foul taste in his mouth. Changing into real clothes? More difficult, but doable. Opening the blinds? Absolutely not.

It took an eternity to convince himself to stumble out to the kitchen and choke down a piece of bread so he could take some pain medication, and once he did he flopped down on the couch like he’d done something actually exerting, but he couldn’t help but notice that Anakin wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Oh, shit. _Anakin_.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even seen the other man last night. He’d said he would, but he hadn’t. Was it normal to feel that guilty? Probably not. But still, a part of him wondered if Anakin was sad he’d missed him. Hopefully, he decided. Not too much. Just sad they hadn’t seen each other.

He was roused out of his thoughts before they could delve too far into the “Anakin” pit by a groan coming from the man in question’s bedroom door.

“Why the _fuck_ did we do that, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked. “Who the _fuck_ thought that was a good idea?”

As much as Obi-Wan was dying to _see_ the other man, he felt like getting up was too much fucking work. So, he settled for some mild griping.

“As I recall, the whole operation was your idea.”

He could practically _hear_ Anakin’s scowl.

“Well we didn’t even see each other, so it was kind of stupid.” He finished at a mumble, like he’d given something away. What, Obi-Wan couldn’t tell though, so he just laid there and hummed his agreement.

After a few minutes of silence that was only broken by rustling and chewing noises, Anakin spoke again. “So what were you even dressed as, anyways? I just remembered we never showed each other.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “Some fancy vampire, but I forgot to take the makeup off before I went to bed so it’s probably gonna make me break out.”

Anakin snorted, now filling a glass with water. “So sorry, beauty queen. I actually met a vampire last night, you know, but it wasn’t you. His makeup was too cool. And he was cool, also.” He said the last part like he’d learned some secret about the man, and Obi-Wan ignored the implications, for his sanity.

He instead sat up to glare at him over the back of the couch, ignoring the pounding in his head and the way Anakin’s mussed curls made his breath catch a little. “Funny. We would’ve known if it was, anyways.”

“I dunno,” Anakin said, swallowing down his headache medicine. “I was pretty unrecognizable, if I do say so myself. Also maybe really drunk.”

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. “What was your so unrecognizable costume, anyways?”

He wasn’t expecting any sort of weird reaction, but Anakin immediately ducked his head, blushing. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Really, really funny, sort of.”

“Anakin.”

“And honestly, it’s not my fault—”

“Anakin.”

“Ahsoka could probably explain it better anyways—”

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “What was it?”

The younger man sighed, coming over to flop on the couch, close enough to press his side up against Obi-Wan’s back. “Ahsoka bet me that I wouldn’t go as Ariana Grande.”

Something not far off from adrenaline stabbed through Obi-Wan’s chest. “And you…”

“She said she’d, uh, stop teasing me for… something. I had to!” He draped himself over Obi-Wan so they could see each other. Anakin’s arms were around Obi-Wan’s chest, where he desperately hoped his pounding heartbeat wasn’t perceptible, and their faces were so close, Obi-Wan couldn’t hide. “Luckily,” Anakin continued, as if his words weren’t meandering down a _dangerous_ path, “I found one of those bunny masks, and I went as her from—”

“Dangerous Woman?” Obi-Wan whispered, something like dread clenching his chest.

As Ahsoka might’ve said, _please say sike right now_. Because Obi-Wan was pretty damn sure that, inebriated or not, he would’ve noticed another man in Ariana-themed drag. And he was pretty damn sure that, if Anakin wasn’t lying, there was only one sequence of events that made sense: Obi-Wan, wasted, had made out with Anakin, also wasted.

Fuck _damnit_.

“Yeah,” Anakin whispered back. “How did you know?”

Obi-Wan swallowed, nervous, and pretended he didn’t see Anakin’s gaze flitting down to his throat. “I ran into a man dressed as her last night,” he said carefully. “While I was looking for you. He made me drop my drink.”

Something shifted in Anakin’s gaze. “Oh,” he said simply. “Did… did anything else happen?”

“Well.” Obi-Wan’s throat felt dry, and suddenly their closeness was _far_ too much. “I think we hit it off. I never caught his name, but I think he felt the same.” The irony felt bruising as the words fell out of his mouth. _I think he felt the same_. Funny, speaking to the same man, now, who so clearly _didn’t_.

“Hm,” Anakin said, as if he wasn’t sure quite what to make of that statement. Obi-Wan wished he’d just get it over with already.

“I think you might be right,” the other man finally murmured, leaning in slightly. What was Anakin _doing_? Leaning in so Obi-Wan could smell his Listerine-y breath? He was acting like—like he didn’t _mind_ kissing Obi-Wan. Like he wanted to kiss him again? Which couldn’t possibly be.

Unless…

Oh.

_Oh_.

“Nothing like a big gay crush to make you feel like a fucking idiot,” Obi-Wan muttered, then muffled Anakin’s laugh with a kiss that made him really glad they’d both scrubbed their mouths out.

When they broke away, Anakin just stared at him a moment, the sunlight pounding on Obi-Wan’s skull but making the man he’d just kissed look ethereal, seeming to pause to take him in before finally grinning.

“Ahsoka doesn’t even get to say shit about this for _two weeks_ ,” he said gleefully. “Obi-Wan, this is quite possibly the best timing I’ve ever experienced in my _life_.”

Somehow, not even Anakin gloating about his little sister’s inability to mock them broke the spell of the moment, and as Obi-Wan found himself laughing along, he for once didn’t worry about staring too much, or coming off as too desperately attracted to the other man. God, it was _nice_. And it was nice to think about the possibilities of them doing that again, perfectly sober and un-hungover, and it was nice to think about calling his dad and telling him he could stop trying to set him up with local angry blonde girls, and the whole thing was just—it was just all so fucking _nice_.

As it turned out, frat parties and overly-involved costumes _were_ actually good for something.

**Author's Note:**

>  **ahsoka, overestimating anakin's dignity:** hey i bet u won't go as ariana grande lmaoooo  
>  **anakin, exhausted bc she won't shut the fuck up about his massive crush on obi-wan:** bet
> 
> i hope you liked this little spooky szn fic!! as always, comments & kudos are much appreciated :)) let me know what you thought!!


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